Good Boys Are Bad Boys That Haven't Been Caught
by Llmav
Summary: In which Austin is kind of bad. And good. And bad. And good. And Ally kind of likes it.


**A/N; DO DO DO D-DO DO DO DO DO DO...**

**So I don't really know what to say. **

**This is dirty. **

**Very dirty.**

** Like, strongly rated M. **

**Don't blame me, blame the people that convinced me to do this (I'm not mentioning names, you guys know who you are.)**

**But I guess I have to admit that I also actually kind of perhaps like this version of Austin. I know he's slightly bipolar and weird and dirty-talking but idk, I still think he's kind of cool. **

**This was inspired by a few fanfics that I've recently read and absolutely loved, as well as the song "Good girls" by 5sos, but I reversed the relationship a bit. **

**It's kind of different from my regular stories so pretty please let me know what you think. Even if you hate it. **

**Oh, and I don't really speak French although I like to pretend that I do, so I apologize in advance for any errors. **

**One last warning; IF YOU DONT LIKE SMUT, PLEASE DONT READ THIS.**

In hindsight, there were a few incidents, a few small moments of time that were likely destined for oblivion, snippets of her existence that, separately, meant nothing but put together, meant everything.

Because they led her to _him_.

It was almost like the universe had purposefully been aligning their previously distant paths, whilst giving her small signals, nudging her towards him, as if he had had a big, bright neon arrow sign above his head that suddenly had been turned on, pointing her in his direction.

"_Come_ _here_."

It was a cascading effect, really, a round of dominos in the game of life, one coincident leading to the next, a series of unfortunate or perhaps fortunate events that ended up changing her life.

At first, she hadn't been paying attention. She soon realized that she had _never_ really been paying attention. She, just like most of the other students at the overcrowded high-school, was too preoccupied with the everyday life of teenage drama, to infatuated with herself to truly be concerned about anyone else, despite the commonly shared I-love-yous and the too frequent, feigned declarations of sure to fail, life-long friendships.

She was not necessarily a 'good' girl, but she wasn't bad; she was an in-betweener.

She was popular, although sometimes almost unwillingly so.

She was hot enough to hook-up with the football players, yet not determined (nor coordinated) enough to be a cheerleader.

She was smart, at least smart enough, yet too lazy to apply herself because ah, school was boring.

_Life_ was kind of boring.

Boring, like the medium setting of a toaster, moving along, but not speedingly so.

The result was warm, edible, but far from exciting.

It had no flavor.

Bland.

Just right yet just so wrong.

And the freaking setting _never_ changed.

The first coincidental incident occurred after an exceptionally gruesome week of boredom, complete with too much homework that she had neither the motivation nor the intention of completing, accompanied with a bout of guilt for being too lazy to perform the relatively simple should-haves of her all too routine life.

It was Friday afternoon, and she was in a rush, ready to get home to start preparing for the late night party that she and Cassidy were going to, most likely headed for a night of semi-heavy drinking, and undoubtedly ending with her sneaking into her house way passed the curfew.

As if her father would notice, anyways.

In other words, just another, typical, Friday night.

Her on-off-whatever 'relationship' was off again, probably for good and it was for good, and she was looking forward to a night of fun, even though the boys that were sure to be at the house-party were all but exciting.

She sighed.

School was finally over, the 48 hour long weekend (or maybe a bit longer, whatever, it was not like she was the president of the Mathletes) of freedom lurking around the corner, more alluring than the current pre-sale at the luxury shoe store at the nearby mall.

Which, coincidentally, happened to be where she would spend some of said freedom, along with most of her savings.

And then she ran into him.

The president of the Mathletes.

They had been going to the same school for a few years now, and his name was...gosh, she really couldn't remember his name.

A something something.

Adam?

Anthony?

A...Austin. That was it.

Austin Moon.

She had had no clue that she actually knew his last name. Huh.

From what she knew about him, which really wasn't much, he was a member of pretty much any club with a nerdy connotation that she could possibly think of.

Actually, she was pretty sure he had _founded_ most of them.

He could easily write the textbook for 'How-to-become-a-nerd-101'.

She recognized him, yet didn't really remember ever seeing him around.

She had never, not once, seen him at said parties.

And she couldn't recall one time that they had actually interacted.

He had an uncanny tendency to blend in, despite his impressive height.

He was quiet, that much she knew. Very quiet, almost as if attention physically hurt him.

The list of his extracurricular activities was most likely as long as his back, his history as clean as his tucked in, well-ironed shirt and his life path as straight as the As he undoubtedly carried in every class.

She had done a fairly good job of keeping the non-existence of her coordination a somewhat well-hidden secret throughout high-school, but there were occasions where her two left feet made an unfortunate appearance and clearly, that afternoon was the day when her facade had cracked.

And in more ways than one.

She realized that she had managed to somehow knock the too thick glasses off of his face.

She took a few steps and picked them off of the floor, hoping that they weren't broken as she had no intention of spending her hard-earned money on repairing some nerd's too big glasses.

Especially not when there was a said shoe-sale at the mall.

She held her breath as she picked them up, chanting an internal mantra that was a mix of prayers and panic-stricken curses, not sure of whether she was calling the bearded man above or his horned counterpart below, but it didn't seem to matter because it worked as the glasses weren't broken.

Not even a crack.

She sighed in relief while realizing that perhaps it was not that surprising, after all, as the glasses were thicker than the bible she didn't own, despite praying (apparently successfully) quite often.

She turned around and looked at him, catching him looking at her and for some reason she didn't mind.

She returned the favor, observing him where he stood, in the middle of the narrow hallway.

He was tall, very tall, much taller than her, and he almost looked out of place.

She realized she was still holding the glasses.

They looked _so_ big.

Come to think of it, almost _everything_ on him looked too big, at least a few sizes, almost as if he was trying a bit too hard to look dorky.

Or maybe as if he was trying to hide.

She reached out the glasses towards him, about to mumble a quick "I'm sorry" when she noticed his eyes.

They were big, brown, amazing, and reflective of things that instantly made her curious.

Those eyes were full of secrets.

For some reason, she got the feeling that he wore those glasses for the the opposite purpose of their intended use, making him invisible to the world rather than making the world visible to him.

He smiled, an amazing smile, a smile that made her feel weird things, a smile that for some reason made her think of kissing him, letting her tongue run against his teeth, while pulling on that blond hair...

What the fuck was wrong with her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you." Her voice was quivering a bit, almost as if she was nervous.

But that was only because she was.

He took the glasses, their hands touching for a brief second and she wished it would have lasted longer.

"Well, maybe you should open your eyes." He didn't sound mocking, just sincere, and she got the odd feeling that he wasn't just talking about that current moment.

God, that _voice_.

She was pretty sure that she had heard him speak before, because if so, she would have remembered it.

That voice was a damn eargasm.

"Maybe I should try it out." She caught herself smiling back at him.

"Yeah. Sometimes you'll notice things that you didn't know was there."

He repositioned the glasses, shielding his amazing eyes, before nodding slightly in thanks and turning around to walk away.

She stood there for a second, trying to clear her head, before walking over towards Cassidy, who was waiting for her by the nearby lockers.

"What was _that_? Why were you talking to _him_?" Her friend sounded genuinely surprised.

And she just shook her head as she didn't know what to answer, simply because she really didn't know.

She didn't realize it at the time, but that interaction, that short and seemingly insignificant encounter, was the end of her old life and the start of it all.

And those eyes didn't leave her thoughts for the next few days.

...

The second coincidental incident occurred a couple of weeks later.

It was midweek, and she wasn't feeling well, or at least that's what she had told her father when she had called him to come and pick her up early. She knew that he would be busy enough at the store to simply drop her off at home, allowing her to catch up on crappy TV shows while resting on their living room couch, eating pickles.

She couldn't think of a better way to spend her day.

She felt pathetic.

She was shortcutting through the back parking lot, expecting it to be empty, when she spotted them, over in the corner.

Two tall figures, two sets of hair, one blond and one almost bright red.

Had it not been for their short run-in a few weeks prior, she probably wouldn't have noticed him.

But that blond mop somehow stood out to her now.

Like a freaking highlighter.

_"Look here'. 'It's important'. 'You should remember_ _this_.'

What were they doing?

Why weren't they in class?

She tried to make herself invisible, hoping to somehow blend in to the completely abandoned back parking lot, in an effort for them not to see her as she got the feeling that they were up to no good.

Her hiding attempt was as successful as could be expected.

She was halfway through the open area, making her way surprisingly fast, when a loud 'Hey' echoed throughout the empty space.

For a millisecond, she contemplated pretending not to have heard it, but part of her was curious and intrigued and she kind if really wanted to know what the two nerds were up to.

She walked over towards them, realizing that a small cloud of smoke was formed around them.

"Hey." The blond's greeting was cheery.

"Hey." _Hers_ was hesitant.

"So...have you ran into anything lately?"

So he recognized her, too.

"Nope. I took your advice. My eyes are _wide_ open."

He smiled. "Good."

She didn't know what else to say.

"You won't tell anyone that we were out here, right?" The redhead interrupted their comfortable uncomfortableness.

"_Dez_." Austin said it in a scolding yet loving way, like a mother who couldn't hide her affections for her disobedient son.

"What? You don't _know_ the girl."

"I know enough about the _girl_ to know that she wouldn't tell anyone."

"It's Ally, by the way." She didn't like to be called the girl.

"I know. I'm Austin."

She surprised even herself when she repeated his answer. "I know."

That threw him off, she could tell that it did, even if it was just for a split second, before he turned to introduce her to his ginger friend.

"Dez, Ally, Ally, Dez."

Dez looked confused. "So, we're doing names now?"

She had no idea what he was talking about, and Austin just shot him a silent death stare.

Dez looked confused for a minute before turning towards her, smiling. "Okie dokie. We have French together, right?"

She nodded.

She hadn't really noticed that they were in that class with her up until a couple of weeks ago, but it quickly started to become one of her favorite ones.

Not at _all_ because Austin was in it.

"Yeah, I think so."

"_Mon_ _ami_ _veut_ _lecher_ _votre_ _corps_." His pronunciation was flawless.

She shook her head as she had absolutely no idea of what he had just said, but Austin was smiling, or more accurately smirking, in understanding.

Great.

So he was fluent in French.

Of _course_ he was.

Of _fucking_ course.

He held out a box of cigarettes towards her, almost as if it was a challenge and perhaps it was.

She grabbed one without hesitating, not because she enjoyed smoking but because she for some unknown reason wanted to prolong the moment of awkwardness that they were currently sharing.

"So, you guys are skipping class?"

"We are doing _no_ such thing. We are in a meeting. We have meetings quite often. Today, we are discussing...computer programming."

Dez sounded convincing, _very_ convincing, and had she not known better, she might have fallen for it.

She almost laughed loudly. "Right."

She realized that the two of them were dressed alike. Not identical, but almost matching.

As if they had gotten a 2 for 1 deal at Nerds-r-us.

"What's with the bow ties? And the suspenders?" She was genuinely curious.

The tall pair looked at each other and laughed, as if there was an inside joke that she wasn't a part of.

Almost as if she _was_ the joke.

She kind of wanted to be a part of it.

As they continued to laugh, she got the feeling that their sole mission in life was to fuck around with people, making fun of the rest of the students without them knowing, two dorks having the last laugh even if nobody else knew.

And they were perfectly happy with that.

She took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill her lungs, grateful that she didn't cough although she kind of wanted to.

Smoking wasn't her thing.

If her dad saw her, she wouldn't just be grounded but probably chained to her freaking bed.

For like, eternity.

But she just didn't have it in her to care.

Austin leaned up against the school building, while exhaling the smoke as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Are you guys never worried that you'll get caught?"

"Not really. People usually don't pay attention to us." Austin smiled, a sincere smile, as to let her know that he preferred it that way. More smoke left the side of his mouth, making him look more like an iconic movie star (most likely headed for lung cancer, but whatever) than the school nerd.

She noticed that he was no longer wearing his glasses, but rather, they were tucked into his chest pocket, conveniently available in case he needed to put on different persona on short notice.

And he was looking at her.

Staring, even.

She tried to ignore his piercing eyes at absolutely no avail.

It was funny, because she almost got the feeling that his vision was better without the glasses, as he was currently seeing right through her.

A minute passed, her puffing on the disgusting cigarette (so she might have overemphasized the manner in which she put her mouth around that cigarette, whatever), none of them breaking eye contact and his redhead friend's throat-clearing and low French mumbling did nothing to change that.

Her father honking from the distant, other side of the parking lot, however, signaled the end of their impromptu eye-gluing session.

"I...I got to go."

He nodded. "Where are you going, anyways?"

"Home. I'm sick." She coughed, as to enhance her point.

It sounded fake, but only because it was.

He smirked and she knew that he knew that she wasn't.

"Thanks." She nodded towards the cigarette that was now dying a slow death on the ground.

"See you around." He headed a goodbye as he put his glasses back on.

And she knew she would, because suddenly, it was as if _she_ was the one who had put on those glasses, because now, she was seeing him.

Clearly.

...

The third coincidental incident was perhaps not as much a coincident as it was the result of her suddenly vastly improved attention-paying skills.

She had noticed that he usually hang around in the hallway after the last class, then always walking off in the same direction.

He was on her radar, blinking obnoxiously for her to pay attention to him, as he moved throughout the by the minute less crowded school.

She wasn't sure what she was doing. She had turned down Cassidy's offer to go to the mall, with the lame excuse that she needed to study - not necessarily a lie, because she _did_ need to, although she had absolutely no intention of doing so.

Nope. All she wanted was to learn more about him.

She followed him, tracking him through the crowd, feeling like an undercover private investigator, on a secret mission of trying to solve the mystery that was Austin Moon.

She felt bad, but it was really kind of his own fault.

He was the one who had told her to open her eyes.

And where the heck was he going?

She followed behind him, at a safe enough distance for him not to see her, and watched as he entered...

...the school library.

It surprised her, although it probably shouldn't.

She waited a couple of minutes before she walked up and hesitantly pushed the door open, soon stepping into the one area that she probably had spent the least time in throughout the last few years.

She felt unsure for a second.

What would she say if he saw her?

She could always pretend that she was there to study.

That would make sense, after all.

She glanced around the almost empty space, row after row of books, no sign of him.

She started to roam around, pretending to be looking for a book while looking for the mystery man of her recent dreams.

And then she found just what she was looking for while kind of finding exactly what she wasn't.

Cause at the back of the room where nobody looks, she finally saw him, his mouth attached to someone else's, his hands quickly traveling underneath the mouth's too short skirt, her back pressed into the wall and his body pressed into hers, as she was reaching for the zipper of his pants, pulling it down and...

That's when she just turned around and did not at all forget what she saw.

Even though she tried to.

Her heart was beating so fast that she could hear her pulse in her ear, her breath was shortened as if air supply was sanctioned, as she exited the school, soon speedingly driving home and not at all thinking of him for the remainder of the afternoon.

Not at all.

And that night she dreamt of him.

And her.

Fucking in the back of a forgotten room in the school library.

...

The fourth coincidental incident happened the following weekend.

She was walking back from the grocery store, her father having taken the car to the music store for some late afternoon emergency.

It was times like these that she wished she would have had her own car, although the store was only a couple of blocks away.

That, and that her mother would still be around so that she wouldn't have to do the grocery shopping.

She sighed. The bags were kind of heavy.

She was almost home when she noticed them, three figures sitting on the front porch of her almost neighbor's house.

Her heart started hammering.

Highlighter was in her neighborhood, along with his ketchup-headed companion.

She nodded towards Trish. They ran into each other quite often, given that they lived on the same street. She was, as per usual, immediately hit with a wave of guilt, a sense of nostalgia, almost regret.

They had been close friends once, in a different life time, a life time before the social conventions of high school had turned _her_ into a somebody, Trish into a nobody and her current company into the group of anybodys.

She noticed that Dez was pouring something into the open coke can that he was holding out of an unidentified container, laughing a bit, and she somehow understood that they were drinking, or rather, getting drunk.

Austin was singing something as they were cheering, she couldn't really tell what, but what she _could_ tell was that the three of them were good friends.

And she suddenly got this weird feeling, the oddest one to date, that she wanted to be part of that group, part of the dorky misfits that were getting drunk, in broad daylight, outside a too unkept house with a too unkept yard on a late Sunday afternoon.

Not because she necessarily wanted to get _drunk_. She had plenty of people to get drunk with if she had really wanted to.

No, that wasn't it at all.

But she wanted to _belong_ with them.

She, also, didn't want to give a shit.

She, also, wanted to be carefree.

Or at least seemingly so.

She accidentally dropped one of the bags, the content spilling out onto the too hot street and she kind of wanted to cry, but that required energy that she didn't have.

Before she knew it, there was a strong arm next to hers, its muscles rippling as it lifted the fallen bag, quickly putting the spilled-out items back into the flimsy plastic bag.

She looked up and was met by a dimpled smile.

Today, he was wearing a tanktop, oversized but still showing off his surprisingly bulgy arms, no glasses, messy hair, deep brown eyes and close to irresistible smile.

"Sit down for a minute", and she followed behind him as he carried her bags over towards the porch.

She nodded towards Trish again and was met with a sincere smile. Dez greeted her with a too loud "_Hello_" before he dove right back into the too loud conversation he was apparently having with Trish.

"You want one?" Austin nodded towards the soda cans, and she replied to his nod with a nod.

He handed her one. She took a sip and almost spit it back out.

There was more alcohol than soda in there, that was for sure.

"I've never seen you over here before." She tried to hide her excitement, but she wasn't sure she was successful in doing so.

"I'm here _all_ the time. Maybe you're eyes aren't as wide open as you claim them to be."

She laughed. "I guess I'm still working on it."

"Good. You'll be surprised what you'll see."

"Well, I saw something interesting the other day."

"Really?" He was smiling.

"Yeah. It was you, in...in the school library. In the _back_ of the school library."

She had no clue why or how she felt so comfortable talking to him about it, maybe it was liquid courage from the few sips of the very strong drink that she had just downed, but she did.

She had perhaps expected him to look embarrassed, but he didn't. He seemed unfazed, and he was still smiling, but he _did_ look a bit ponderous, like someone who had been caught with a crime that they didn't regret, but still didn't want to reveal more details about.

"Well, I hope you liked what you saw."

She swallowed a bit too hard. "You...you had company."

He just nodded in response.

"So, was that your...girlfriend?"

Trish laughed out loud, suddenly more interested in their conversation than the hard-to-follow one that Dez was now having by himself. "Austin's longest relationship is with his goldfish."

"You have a _goldfish_?" She sounded as surprised as she was.

"Sure do." He smiled, almost affectionately so. "Why do you look so shocked?"

"I don't know...you don't come off as someone who would have a pet."

"Then you don't really know me."

She probably had never heard a more accurate statement.

"So...who is she then?" She wasn't sure why she was so curious, or perhaps intrigued, but didn't care to analyze it any further.

"What day was it?"

She looked at him in puzzled non-understanding, as if not comprehending why the specific weekday would make a difference.

"This last Thursday, I think?"

"Oh. Then it was number four."

"What?"

"Number four. I have a rotating list, scheduled by day."

She knew her mouth had dropped open. "You hook up with different girls in the school library every day of the week?"

He shook his head, as if she was stupid. "_Nooooo_. I take Fridays off. _Nobody_ studies on Fridays, so my cover-up would kind of be blown, don't you think?"

She didn't bother answering that, as she was still processing all the new information.

"And you call them by number instead of their names?" She didn't mean to sound upset.

"Names imply attachment. I don't do that." He shrugged.

"Oh."

She was starting to put the puzzle pieces that was him together, a more complete picture forming every time they met, but the picture motif was very different from what she had expected.

That, or he was a double-sided puzzle.

She didn't know what else to say, so she stayed quiet for a few minutes, taking a few more sips of the too strong liquor from the misleadingly innocent looking coke can before rising.

She had groceries that needed to be put away.

"Thanks. And bye...it's been..._interesting_."

Trish and Dez nodded a quick bye, as Austin got up, grabbing her grocery bags before walking her to her house, half a block away, acting every part the gentleman that she was by now fairly certain that he was not.

Their arms accidentally touched a few times, and she accidentally didn't move away.

And neither did he.

She thanked him and he smiled, turning around and waving a quick goodbye as she lingered in her doorway, watching him depart.

She should stay away from him, she knew she should, because despite generally having a very non-intimidating exterior, she just knew that he was more dangerous than anyone else she had ever met.

And yet, she was currently thinking of whether he was still adding numbers to that list of his.

And if so, what number she would get.

What the fuck was wrong with her.

...

The fifth and final incident occurred the following week.

They were in the class that she despised but loved.

French.

_Francais_.

She wasn't really paying attention, the teacher blabbering on in some gibberish mix of French and English, and it wasn't until the end of the class that she almost jumped alive in her back-of-the-classroom seat. It was such a great seat, because although she kind of couldn't see the whiteboard, she had a perfect view of the back of his blond head, where he was sitting in the front row.

Right, right, she needed to focus.

Had the teacher mentioned a group project?

She groaned internally.

Group projects were a freaking _nightmare_.

Come to think of it, she was fairly sure that the teacher had mentioned it before, but she hadn't bothered to really memorize something as trivial as a school assignment.

Usually, she would have paired up with Cassidy, but the blonde was out sick from a weekend of too much partying.

She noticed that _his_ sidekick was noticeably gone as well.

Weird.

She looked around and realized that everyone else was pretty much paired up, everyone else except for her and _him_.

He got out of his seat, walking towards her and she was oddly nervous, because she really, really didn't want to be paired up with him yet she really, really wanted to.

"You want to be my partner?" He wasn't smirking, but it sounded like he was.

Oh, she _did_. In more ways than one.

"I...I'm not very good at French."

"Don't worry, I'm an excellent teacher."

She nodded.

Somehow, she didn't doubt that for a second.

And as she typed her phone number into his cellphone, so that he could send her his address, she couldn't help but to feel kind of excited.

In more ways than one.

...

She pulled up out outside of his house, her dad's car making some funny noises as it came to a complete stop, her heart beating fast in anticipation although she had absolutely no idea _what_ she was anticipating.

She was spending the afternoon working on a French project with the school's not so nerdy nerd, something that by most accounts shouldn't be considered 'fun' at all, and yet she hadn't been more thrilled for years.

She walked up towards the house, and she realized it was a big one.

He was rich. Perhaps even wealthy.

She rang the doorbell, and he opened the door almost immediately, almost as if he had been standing behind it, waiting for her to arrive.

He was in nerd uniform, too big pants, bow tie, thick glasses tight in place and the on schooldays usually present oversized shirt covering his tall body.

"You made it. Let me introduce you to my parents."

They were standing right next to him.

"Mother, father, this is Ally Dawson." She couldn't help but notice that he knew her last name, although she had never given it to him. And that pleased her a bit too much.

_Fine_, so they _did_ have class together.

And _she_ knew _his_ last name.

But still.

As she shook their hands, she realized that she knew who they were.

They were the _Moons_.

They owned The Mattress Kingdom.

Their commercials were ridiculously cheesy and way overplayed.

She had never made the connection before.

"Austin _never_ brings girls over. It's so nice to meet you." His mom's hand was warm in hers.

"Mother, she's just her to _study_. We have a project due."

'Mother'. It was so formal, foreign to her, as if the role he was playing today was the one of a perfect son.

They walked upstairs, her in front of him, and she could feel rather than see that he was checking out her ass.

Good.

His room was big, nice and neater than she would have expected of any other teenage boy but not off of him.

It was decorated nicely, with what she could only presume to be the typical teenage-boy paraphernalia.

"Take a seat." He pointed to one if the two chairs located next to the large green desk, the desk with the French text book resting in the middle of it.

She got an eerie feeling that they weren't going to open it.

He sat down on the chair next to hers and took off his glasses almost immediately.

"You don't wear your glasses to study?"

He laughed and leaned in towards her. "Let me tell you a secret."

She already knew he was _full_ of them.

"I have perfect vision." His voice was an overly theatrical whisper close to her ear.

It had a weird effect on her.

But she kind of had figured _that_ secret out already.

"So, then, what's with the nerd act?"

He laughed. "Sometimes you have to play by the rules to be able to break them."

Oh.

She continued to scan the room, desperate to find something, _anything_, to talk about, to break the uncomfortable silence that was currently engulfing them.

She finally spotted something by his bed.

A small fishbowl with something orange bopping around inside.

The goldfish.

"What's it's name?" She pointed towards it.

He smiled. "It."

"You named it _It_?"

He nodded.

She fought back a smile. She realized that he was trying to view the orange little blob as something inanimate enough to be called It, following his rule of no names, and he could pretend all he wanted, but she knew he was attached to it.

Attached to It.

Ah, he was so darn complicated.

But she liked it.

He was a boy with a third dimension in her otherwise flat world.

She was suddenly even more nervous, therefore starting to blabber away, talking rapidly about nothing and everything, trying to avoid chewing on her hair, until he interrupted her.

"You talk too much."

She was strangely offended by that. "Only because _you're_ not talking enough."

He smirked, secretively. "I can talk a _lot_ under the right circumstances."

His eyes was in hers, and she could have sworn that the air between them was so thick that she could have balanced the too heavy, still unopened French book on top of it.

"It doesn't surprise me. You seem to switch personalities like other people switch underwear."

He laughed, loudly. "I like to keep people guessing. Doesn't it bother you that everyone knows everything about you?"

"People don't know _everything_ about me."

"You're an open book, people just need to pay attention."

"I'm _not_ an open book." She sounded like a whiny toddler struggling to move on from the developmental period of defiance.

"You don't eat in the cafeteria on Tuesdays, because they serve seafood and clearly you don't like that. So you're a picky eater. You usually use the restroom on the second floor, most likely because it's cleaner and there are less stalls there. So you like privacy. You wear heels on short days, probably because you like fancy shoes but they are too uncomfortable to wear for long periods of time. So you're kind of vain, but also practical."

"Stalker." She was kind of stunned.

He shook his head. "Just because _you_ haven't been paying attention to _me_ doesn't mean that _I_ haven't been paying attention to _you_."

Her heart was moving around in her body. Current location; her throat.

So she was on his radar, too.

Her eyes flew around the room, desperate to find something to say, before they landed on a picture frame on top of the nearby dresser.

There was a picture of him and Dez Inside of it.

Grateful for having found something else to talk about, she turned towards him.

"So, you and redhead..."

"Dez, God damn it, his name is _Dez_."

_That_ was apparently important. So he _did_ memorize his friends' names.

Huh.

Good to know.

She continued. "You're good friends?"

"Yeah. We've known each other since kindergarten. He's basically my brother. We even...work together."

She got the feeling that they weren't just friends, but that they were also partners in crime.

She wasn't entirely positive whether said crime was actually illegal or not.

She didn't dare to ask what it meant that they worked together, not because he wouldn't answer but because he would.

She looked around the desk, a pile of papers situated on the right.

What was that?

Oh.

College information.

_She_ hadn't even started to _think_ about college, and here he was, already looking at actual applications.

"Where are you planning on going?" She nodded towards the stack.

"Where am _I_ planning on going or where are my _parents_ planning for me to go?"

She hadn't realized that there could be a difference.

"I guess...your parents?"

"Harvard."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"No pressure, huh?"

He shrugged. "As long as I keep my grade average up, they leave me alone. They think I spend my entire life in here studying."

"And you don't?"

"No."

She waited for him to expand on his short answer, but he didn't, and the following thick quietness was interrupted by a female nasal voice ringing out through the large house from the nicely decorated downstairs.

"_Austin_?"

He sighed, rolling his eyes, and for the first time since she had started to notice him, he looked like a regular teenage boy, one currently annoyed by his interrupting, over-loving mother.

"Don't...touch anything."

He grabbed his glasses and walked out.

He hadn't even really left her eye sight before she started snooping around his room.

She felt bad, but she didn't.

If _she_ was an open book with a readable cover, _he_ was a hidden one, one with a pitch-black, dark cover, revealing nothing about the inside content.

She thought for a second.

Where would she hide things that she wouldn't want anyone to find?

There could only be one place.

She walked over towards the bed and looked under it, not knowing what she was looking for but knowing that she was looking for something.

It was dark and it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust.

And then she found his book.

It was tucked in between the sure to be best quality mattress and the bed frame, impossible to spot unless you were actually looking for it.

She pulled it out and opened it quickly as she knew she was short on time.

It was a diary.

Or maybe a journal.

Whatever.

The undercover bad boy had a journal.

It surprised her that she failed to be surprised.

He was such a freaking paradox, because the more she found out about him, the less she knew.

It made her head spin.

She opened it before she had the chance to feel bad about it, glancing at the pages filled with scribbled notes, the lines resembling poetry, and some rambling about double rainbows, along with detailed doodles and drawings.

One of them caught her attention more than the others. They were all good, very good, but that specific one spoke to her as it was a drawing of herself.

He had captured her perfectly, her curls running down her narrow shoulders, a small, shy smile on her face and she got the feeling that he had captured the moment of their quick run-in in the school hallway.

It was beautiful.

She suddenly remembered where she was at, swiftly tucking his book back into its dark hiding place and retook her seat by the desk, her head spinning a bit more.

He reentered the room not more than a few seconds later, with two tall glasses in hand.

"My mother thought we needed a refresher."

He handed her one of the lemonade glasses before sitting back down next to her.

"So...should we get started?"

She nodded as she took a large sip from the glass.

The lemonade was delicious. Best thing she had had all day.

He tore out a sheet of paper from his notepad, scribbled something on it before crinkling it into a small ball, soon bouncing it in his hand.

"Funny how we got paired up together, don't you think?" She _really_ didn't want to study. And she really wanted to continue talking to him, even though she wasn't exactly sure what to talk about.

"_Funny_, yeah." Something in the way he said it made her pay extra attention.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me?"

He just looked at her and she realized that them pairing up was not at all a coincidence.

Come to think of it, she was pretty sure that Dez had never skipped a French class before.

At least not since she started to pay attention.

She didn't push the topic further. Next thing she knew, he would probably tell her that their first bump-in wasn't completely accidental, either.

She noticed a small basketball hoop hanging over his closet door.

Good. Perfect topic changer.

"You like basketball?" She nodded towards it.

"Oh, that. That was an attempt by my father to push me towards becoming the son he wished he had had. I don't really do sports. I'm not very athletic."

And with that, he threw the crinkled up ball of paper in a perfect angle, making it into the basket without even looking.

He smirked, as per usual, and she was suddenly certain that there was nothing that he wasn't good at.

Sports included.

"So, what _do_ you do for fun? What's your hobbies?"

"I have a few."

Like what?

"Music."

She nodded as she had noticed the few music-themed posters on his walls.

So it probably wasn't poetry that she had seen in his journal, it was song lyrics.

Interesting.

"What else?" She felt like a nosy news reporter with a semi-reluctant interviewee.

A long minute passed, and she could tell that he was contemplating whether to tell her something or not.

"Fucking."

She almost choked on her lemonade, the lemonade that his mother probably had made from scratch, as he just continued to look at her with an amused smile.

And all of a sudden, the all-consuming quietness of the room was sparkling with tension, so much tension, and she didn't know where to look, because regardless of what she focused her eyes on, he seemed to be all she could see.

"I'm sorry?" She sounded like she was actually choking.

She clearly had heard him wrong and god damn it, he was messing with her head because now all she could think of was him fucking her, over there on that nicely made, perfectly-sized bed, the bed belonging to the crown prince of a mattress empire.

He smiled, he god damn _smiled_, his face that she hadn't even recognized until a few week prior suddenly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her entire life.

He leaned in towards her again, almost as if he knew that it kind if drove her a bit crazy to have him so close. Too close.

"I like to _fuck_ for fun." His voice was low but clear, and he said it as if he's talking about bird watching or rock collecting or fucking fossil hunting.

She cleared her suddenly dry throat, partially because she was short on air and partially because she didn't know what else to do.

She knew her face was redder than the too expensive, strawberry-shaded shoes she was currently wearing.

"Oh". It was more a spoken thought than a comment.

"I don't really expect _you_ to understand."

"Excuse me?"

"You're a bit more..._clean_ _cut_ than my usual...numbers."

She instantly felt a few tears prickling her eyes and she wasn't sure why.

He apparently noticed. "Hey, I...it's not a bad thing, it's just...I'm pretty sure you're made out of a different type of material, you know?"

"You don't know _everything_ about me, you have no idea what type of material I'm made out of. Heck, up until a few weeks ago, you didn't even know my name."

"I _did_ know your name, and I _do_ know your material. You're the type of girl who deserves to be wooed and pampered and _loved_. You're _girlfriend_ material. Fuck, you're smart and funny and so incredible fucking _hot_. But I already told you, I don't _do_ that."

She had never had anyone talk her _out_ of sleeping with them before, and yet every word he spoke had the complete opposite effect on her, because now she really, really wanted to sleep with him.

Fuck.

A few tears escaped, speeding down her cheek, and he reached to wipe one of them away, tracing its path with his finger, then moving it towards his mouth and licking up the salty drop before he leaned in to kiss her.

It kind if took her by surprise although it didn't, because in all honesty, it had been weeks in the making.

His lips tasted like lemonade and minty toothpaste, and she smiled at the thought of him brushing his teeth just because she was coming over.

Lemonade, minty tooth paste and raw sexual desire invaded all her senses.

He broke away. Too soon.

"You're so damn _fuckable_ and I'm extremely attracted to you, so I think it might be better if you leave before I do something you will regret."

"Maybe...maybe I don't want to leave."

"Look, I must confess, I kind of like it that you're innocent, but..."

"I'm not that innocent." She sounded like a little kid again.

He lifted an eyebrow at her, as if saying 'Please'.

"I'm _not_."

"I'm...it's an all or nothing type of deal. It gets...intense. I don't know if you can handle it."

"Try me."

He stood up from his chair as he smirked, clearly picking up on the double-meaning that was unintentionally there.

"Look, I'm not your average high-school jock who fucks you for a minute and then thinks he's given you the time of your life, while you fake a short orgasm and wish for it to be over."

She looked at him where he stood, half a yard away, half nerd and half bad boy, and then she stood up, too, soon reaching up to kiss him again, because _fuck_ she wanted to.

Their tongues interacted, tasting each other in mouthfuls, drinking each others flavors, and suddenly the delicious lemonade was no longer the bast thing she had had all day.

He was addictive.

He moved away from her again.

"One more chance, one _last_ chance, to get out or you're all in." His voice was husky, restrained.

_She_ wasn't really breathing and _he_ was breathing hard. And he was hard. His dick was poking her leg, begging her for attention through his too high-waisted pants.

She didn't move, not even a millimeter, and he smirked, almost as if he had known that she would stay, but his eyes also had some other emotions floating around in there, emotions reflective of nervousness and possibly premature regret.

"So, you're staying?"

"Yep." She kept her answer short so that he wouldn't notice how nervous she was.

"Ok, good, because I kind of need to know what you taste like."

"Huh?"

He moved her towards the bed, pushing her down on it, the mattress as soft behind her back as could have been expected, reaching to pull off her shoes before he laid down.

And then he was on her, covering her completely, his body pressing into hers as he licked the skin of her neck, thoroughly, amazingly.

"I need to see you naked. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since that time in the hallway when you almost broke my glasses. I kind of wanted to fuck you right then and there."

He started to undress her, urgently, pulling her shirt over her head, the t-shirt soon a messy pile on the floor, her shorts rapidly meeting the same fate, and he groaned loudly once he had her down to her underwear.

"Fuck, Ally, I can't wait to be inside if you. Just looking at you makes me want to cum."

She was naked, he was not, she was still on her back and he suddenly rose, standing next to the bed while still looking at her.

She made a disgruntled noise at the loss of body contact.

"Patience. I want to see your naked body, I want to see what I'm going to fuck in a few minutes."

His eyes were wandering over her nude body, but surprisingly, she didn't feel self-conscious.

Incredibly turned on, yes. Shy, no.

"Spread your legs, I want to see your pussy."

She complied.

"Is it wet for me?" She nodded.

"Let me hear it. Touch yourself, I want to hear how wet I have already made you."

She hesitantly placed a hand between her legs, rubbing herself in a few short circles without breaking eye contact with him.

"Good. Now touch yourself until you're dripping wet, then make yourself cum. I want your pussy so soaked, that when I fuck you, my balls get wet too."

She hesitated.

"Please, Ally, rub that wet pussy of yours for me."

He groaned loudly as she complied, the speed of her movements increasing substantially with each passing minute and She knew she was getting close.

Right when she came, he threw himself back on top of her, kissing her as she screamed out her self-produced orgasm into his mouth, his hand massaging her, pumping her, prolonging her high and holy freaking heavenly hell, feeling a part of him inside of her was heaven.

"You like that? You like my fingers moving inside of you?"

She semi-screamed a yes, and then bit her lip as she realized that his parent were downstairs.

Almost as if he could read her mind, he spoke. "Don't worry about it. My room is sound-proof. They can't hear anything unless they're stand directly outside. And they're not."

Why was she not surprised at all?

She came off of her high just around the same time as he started to kiss his way down her body.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was shaking.

"I'm going to lick every inch of your skin, every part of your body, and then I'm going to lick your pussy until my face is wet, soaked even, until it's covered with your juices, and until you cum allover my face. I _told_ you that at I needed to taste you."

He stopped in his tracks once he reached her chest, mumbling something about her naked breasts being cum- worthy, sucking her hard nipple into her mouth while letting his finger trace the rest of her body, then continuing to make his way down.

He reached her hips, soon outlining her protruding bones with his wet lips and she almost screamed for him to put that tongue elsewhere.

And then he did, licking her a few times as she fisted his hair in her hands.

God.

"You taste so fucking good, I could spend the rest of the night eating your pussy."

He continued his mission, humming loudly in appreciation, and she knew he was going to make her cum almost immediately.

His tongue was on her, in her, licking her folds as if he was dehydrated, his tongue both rough and soft on her, and within a couple of minutes she was pulling on his hair, almost violently so, as she came, more intensely than the first time around.

She got up, still panting, as she reached for his shirt as he removed the ridiculous bow tie, her unbuttoning the small buttons at an impressive speed and then unbuttoning the dorky pants, as well, soon leaving him in his underwear.

And then she had to take a second to breath.

He was ripped. She had seen his arms before, both in real life and in her dreams, but she had never even imagined that _that_ was what he had been hiding under there.

And then she saw that he was wearing boxers with trucks printed on them.

She had absolutely no clue to as whether that was part of the nerdy act or not.

She _did_ have a clue that something large was hiding in them, though, judging so by the freaking towering, peek-a-boo erection that seemed to still be increasing in size.

She pulled them down, as well, and then he was naked and she was unable to think.

His glasses were clearly not the only thing that was big. Very, very big.

She grabbed his dick and he groaned. "I want you to grab my _balls_. I want you to feel them, feel all that cum that I'm going to shoot into you."

She massaged them in the rhythm of his curses until he sat down on the bed, throwing a pillow on the floor and spreading his legs.

"Get on your knees."

She positioned herself between his legs, her knees on the pillow, looking at him as if waiting for further instructions.

"Suck me. I want you to suck my cock, hard, I want to feel the head of it deep in your throat."

She let her tounge slide over the head, taking him into her mouth one inch at a time, until he filled it completely. She hummed around him, letting her throat vibrate around the head of his cock, and almost smiled when she felt him respond, then sucking him in a bit further, and she heard him gasp. And curse.

And she felt him fisting her hair tightly in his large hands as she started to move up and down.

"That's right. Suck it. I want your lips _swollen_ from how hard you suck my dick."

She took him in even further, increasing her speed with each consecutive pump.

"Deeper. I want to fill your mouth completely, just like how I'm going to fill your pussy in a few minutes."

She continued to move her mouth up and down over his cock.

"Look at me while you blow me."

She looked up and her eyes met his as she let her tongue encircle the head of his dick.

He cursed.

"I'm going to fuck your mouth now."

He grabbed her head, holding it in place as he started to move, thrusting into her mouth, moving his dick in and out of it and she could feel him twitch.

"_Fuck_. I really want to let you taste my cum, but I _need_ to experience your pussy. Lay down."

She did, and he positioned himself on top of her, his eyes in hers.

"Ready?" She hadn't expected him to speak, but suddenly, it was almost as if he needed reassurance.

She nodded, because she thought she was.

"Good because I'm going to fuck you harder than any of the pathetic losers who you have had the bad judgement of sleeping with before. I'm going to make you cum, repeatedly, until _my_ balls are empty and _you_ are filled with my cum."

She gasped as he entered her, but his loud, growled curse drowned her whimper and turned her on even further.

He started to move, soon fucking her rawly, hardly and wonderfully, urgently yet somehow intimatelay, and it was hot as hell and not sweet at all, which was exactly how she had envisioned it and maybe had craved, although perhaps not completely consciously so.

He surprised her when he pulled himself out, then moving and turning her around, propping a pillow in underneath her and running his hands over her ass.

"Your ass makes me want to cum, I want to cum all over your ass."

He pushed himself back into her, the wetness making noises around him as he soon reset his fast fucking pace.

She could feel herself contract around him, her pussy responding to his wondrous cock, and she knew that she was getting close, and she knew that he knew that too.

"I want you to cum all over my dick, I want your insides to squeeze me so tight that I can't fucking stop fucking you, I want to make you feel better than you ever have before."

She let go, for the third time of the night, exploding around him, her ass moving up against him in disorganized seizures of euphoria.

He rose, pulling her with him, positioning her in front of his wall mirror, the mirror that was decorated with some type of juvenile Zalien stickers, pulling on her hair as he slammed himself back into her from behind, her back arching and him therefore hitting her even deeper as her hands pushed up against the mirror.

She could see him move behind her, his ass pumping in continuous shoves, his face one of pure pleasure and she couldn't remember anything else in life that she had enjoyed more.

And then he turned them sideways, her hands now resting on his closet door.

"I want you to _see_ what I'm doing to you, I want you to see my dick moving in and out of your pussy, going _deep_ into you, hitting you deeper than anyone has before."

He continued to fuck her in front of the mirror, nibbling on her neck while still keeping a firm grip of her ponytail, whispering obscenities into her ear.

_"Your pussy drives me fucking insane."_

"_I_ _want_ _to_ _fuck_ _you_ _until tomorrow_."

_"My dick wants to live inside of you."_

A knock on the door startled her but not him.

"It's time for dinner, Austin. Your father and I already ate, but your food is getting cold." His mother's voice sounded distant.

Right. Sound-proof.

"We are just about to finish up." He was semi-screaming.

Oh, was she _ever_.

He waited for a a few seconds before he started to move again, then reaching around her, his fingers finding her clit.

"I'm going to touch you, touch your clit, rub you until you cum for me again."

His prediction came true almost immediately, her riding out her orgasm like she had done numerous times throughout the afternoon, with the only difference that this time _he_ followed suit, filling her in a few, hard, rough thrusts while keeping a firm grip on her hips, shoving himself into her repetitiously.

"Fucking _god_, Ally, I wish I could cum inside of you over and over."

He pulled out and leaned up against the wall, an unreadable expression on his face.

She started to move towards her clothes, her breath still ragged, and she almost felt dizzy.

It it was probably time for her to leave.

"Stay for a minute." He sounded like he really wanted her to.

She nodded, because she wasn't entirely sure that she could walk straight and because she really wanted to.

He walked over towards his nightstand, lifting up a piggy bank that was located on top of it, opening and taking something out of it, and it took her a few seconds before she realized that it was weed.

He rolled a joint, then walking over towards her where she was standing, still completely naked, next to his window.

"Something to calm down." She wasn't sure if he was talking about her or himself.

He lit it, then reaching it out towards her, her putting it to her mouth and inhaling without hesitation.

She was way over thinking, anyways.

"So, is this your usual routine?"

He shook his head. "Didn't you hear my mother? I've never...had a girl here before."

"That your _mother_ knows of."

He turned towards her. "I've never had another girl here."

She knew he was telling the truth.

They stood there, sharing the joint and the air, close to each other, nude, getting high as the sun was getting low.

"This window is my ticket to freedom." He blew the smoke out of it.

It was darkening outside, and she realized that she would soon need to go home.

And they still hadn't opened the damn French book.

"The project..."

"Don't worry about it, I'll finish it by myself."

They finally got dressed and he walked her downstairs, once again in nerd uniform, walking her to her car before Walking back towards the house, noticing that he lingered in the door, the car taking a minute to come alive before she started to drive away.

And the last thing she saw in the rear view mirror before turning the corner was him, the enigma, the badboy with straight As, the nerd who had just fucked her senseless, the journal-writing, truck-print boxer-wearing, dirty talking boy who was as complicated as her feelings towards him.

Maybe it was the fact that she had had an insane day, or the fact that she was halfway high, but she suddenly started giggling.

...

He had her number, but she didn't expect him to call.

And for once, her assumption about him was true because he didn't.

Not even once.

...

A day passed, two. She missed him but didn't really admit it to herself.

She was thinking about him, though.

A lot.

He had etched himself into her memory, perhaps like a mental tattoo that couldn't be removed.

Life was suddenly weird.

Her regular routine made no sense anymore, the gossip and the by society's standard good-looking guys so utterly uninteresting that she wanted to puke.

All she wanted, all she could think of, was _him_, his breath on her neck, his shirt with the faint smell of weed, fabric softener and cologne, the taste of his mouth, his skin against hers.

He was noticeably absent from school, but despite that, their project was somehow magically turned in on time, and when it was returned to her the next class she saw that they got an A+.

The same grade that she would have given him for his bedroom skills.

It happened almost a full week later.

She hadn't seen him since that afternoon, the afternoon that she couldn't stop thinking about.

She was in the bleachers next to the small football field, not because skipping class was part of her newfound (very quiet, private and pretty much just wishful) rebellion (so far, it had only extended to having mind-blowing, dirty sex with an almost complete stranger, but whatever), but because PE was not her thing. She was kind of doing everyone a favor by sitting out.

Two left feet and all of that.

She almost sensed him before she saw him, his tallish shadow blocking the sun-rays from hitting her face and her heart beat matching the pace of her fast-running classmates.

"Hello, Ally."

"I'm surprised you remember my name." She sounded playful, just like she intended.

"Trust me, _Ally_, you're memorable enough to have a name."

That made her heart beast fast(er).

"I haven't seen you around."

"Funny how you didn't see me when I was here and now you're looking for me when I'm not." She knew he was teasing her.

"I wasn't _looking_ for you." It had been more like searching.

Desperately.

Whatever.

"_Sure_ you weren't." He was smirking.

"So, where have you been?"

"Sick". And she just knew that he hadn't been. No way.

He sat down, not right next to her but close enough to make her (even more) nervous.

"Here. I made you something."

She opened the folded piece of paper that he had just handed her, not knowing what to expect.

It was a picture of her.

A picture of her naked.

She would have blushed, but the drawing was too accurate and too stunning.

"You're very good."

"So I've been told", and she knew he was no longer talking about his drawing skills.

A minute passed, both of them looking everywhere but at each other.

"Come with me somewhere tonight. Well, actually, meet me somewhere." He sounded neutral, not pleading but perhaps a bit demanding.

It wasn't a question, and she knew it wasn't a date because he had made it painstakingly clear that he didn't do that.

He handed her a small note with an address, an address that she was not completely familiar with, but she recognized enough to know that it was located in the all but nice neighborhoods.

For a second, she wondered if he wanted her to be part of some sort of undercover drug-deal.

Not that that would stop her from going. Like, at all.

She nodded, and suddenly their eyes met and all they saw was each other, and for a second, she thought (or maybe hoped) that he might take her right there, right there on the bleachers in broad daylight.

"I got to go." He stood up.

She nodded. "Time for some numbers?"

He shook his head. "I'm not...doing numbers this week."

And then he was gone.

...

It took her forever to get ready.

What the fuck was she supposed to wear to a non-date with a boy who had not yet stolen her heart (at least not the whole thing), but somehow lived in her head?

Gah.

She settled on something simple, comfortable,

She parked outside of the very interesting looking building, walking up to the door and she was not overly surprised to see Dez there. It made sense.

He smiled when he saw her.

"He will be happy that you're here."

And that made _her_ happy.

"He told me to tell you to wait inside."

She nodded and entered. The room was medium sized, fairly dark, not completely full but far from empty.

She overheard someone else saying something about a performance, before a few spotlights came to life, lighting up the stage and revealing someone standing in the middle of it.

She gasped and had to do a double take.

Nope, her eyes were not deceiving her.

It was him, _he_ was up there on that stage, _he_ was the one performing.

Music blasted out of the speakers as he grabbed the nearby microphone and started to sing.

His voice was even more eargasmic when singing, and this time around he was turning her on without even touching her. At least not physically.

His hair was sweaty, the on purpose too tight t-shirt almost a second skin to his body, the body that she had licked less than a week ago and now couldn't get out of her dirty mind.

She was amazed, blown away, and impressed that he had a managed to surprise her yet again.

So _that's_ why his room was soundproof. He probably rehearsed in there.

As she thought about it, she realized that he was a freaking superman of sorts, changing personalities rather than clothes in that freaking phone booth. Although, come to think of it, maybe he was not the superhero but rather the villain, a villain whose crimes included fucking an innocentish girl in his childhood bedroom while his parents were having a hearty home-cooked meal downstairs.

But she also knew that she was not the typical damsel in distress, maybe she was a villain, too, because she didn't want to be saved, she wanted to be put in danger.

So much danger.

He found her in the crowd, almost as if now _she_ was the one with the blinking, large neon sign, his eyes fucking hers as he continued to seduce the sizable audience with his mesmerizing stage-persona and his by heaven made voice.

The performance was over, too soon, and as he walked off the stage she noticed that a group of girls, all scantly clad, followed him and she realized that he had groupies.

The school nerd has groupies.

It was funny but given the events of the last few weeks, not at all surprising.

He ignored them, walking straight up to her.

"You came."

She nodded and he smiled, his whole face lightening up type of smile.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him, backstage, to the back of some room, his by mint covered up smoky breath and his rough tongue soon in her mouth, her pants down by her knees before she even had the time to speak and she reached and pulled down his, as well.

He was still wearing truck underwear, the undercover bad boy suddenly an undercover good one, and as she ran her fingers through his hair, his sweaty hair, her heart beating fast up against his as he was soon taking her hard up against the wall, backstage at his secret rock concert, whispering obscenities in her ear,and she realized that she didn't really know him at all.

She was nowhere _near_ solving the mystery that was Austin Moon.

He might have a future as an engineer or a rock star or a fucking con artist, she really didn't know and she kind of didn't care, because the one thing that she _did_ know was that she was falling for him, in the same was that he was currently pounding her senseless.

Fast and hard.

...

She waited for him outside the all but fancy venue, because he had asked her to and she didn't have it in her to deny herself the pleasure of his company.

He merged after a few minutes, pointing towards an expensive looking car parked outside.

"Let's go eat something. I'll drive."

His car smelled like artificial vanilla, and she got the feeling that the too strong scent was a cover up for something else, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

As they drove down the empty street in the very late evening hours, the sky painted pink by the early morning sun, with music blasting too loudly from the stereo, she couldn't help but to feel incredibly happy.

They pulled up in front of a funky looking diner.

He ordered a stack of pancakes for them to share, him soon devouring them as if it was a delicacy, making orgasmic faces that made _her_ want to cum.

she didn't eat much. She wasn't really hungry for food.

"So I've been thinking..."

Did he look nervous? It was kind of funny, because she couldn't recall him ever looking nervous before.

"Yeah?"

"No more numbers."

"What?"

"I...I would like to try out a name for once." He sounded serious, so very serious, and her heart that he now kind of owned skipped a beat.

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

She knew it was a very big deal.

"But I thought..." Could he tell that she had a difficult time containing her excitement? And a difficult time breathing?

He interrupted her. "Maybe it's time for you to forget what you thought."

He walked around the table, sitting down not just next to her but practically on her, his mouth on hers as they started to make out in the run-down diner at who knows what time in the morning.

"Let's go fuck in the car." She was serious. He smiled.

As they walked out, he grabbed her hand.

"Which one is the real you?" She _had_ to ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you a good boy with a bad boy side or a bad boy with a good boy side?

He just chuckled. "If you stick around, maybe you'll find out."

And she knew that she would.

**_Holy crap this took forever to write...hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it._**


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